Justice League- The Secret Society of Super Villains
by brawl
Summary: A new SSOV is born!


DC Forever Presents-

"The Beginning"

By Tony Thornley

She wore what appeared to be a simple leather catsuit as she repelled into the cave. However, woven into the suit's fabric was a complicated series of countermeasures.

Sonar absorbtion.

Laser reflection.

Heat dampening.

It had it all.

She lowered herself to the cave floor, and released her line. She unhooked herself from the climbing equipment and looked around her surroundings. This was no ordinary cave. Sure, there was the normal balmy dampness. And the subterranean creatures. There was another inhabitant though, one whose home was the cave.

Its name was the Batman.

She slinked gracefully through the cave, grateful for her dancer's body. Her intelligence indicated that the cave was empty, and would be for hours.

All she needed was minutes.

She dodged through the vehicle pool, slipping between cars, motorcycles and various aircraft. She resisted the temptation to admire the trophies amassed over years of crime-fighting. She engaged her suit's electronic chaff, and made the last run for the massive computer that was the centerpiece of the cave.

She sat in the main chair and removed her mask. She had a tear-drop shaped face, with green eyes, and thin lips. Her scalp was bald, but regardless, she would have been seen by most as beautiful. Her beauty didn't matter. It wasn't necessary to her goals.

She pulled a small palm-sized disk from her belt and set it on the console. Although it gave no outward indication of it, the device went to work instantly. A few moments later, the screen came to life, and she smiled.

Query?

She leaned forward and began typing.

Upload Justice League personnel files to external device.

One moment please…

One moment please…

One mom

Access granted.

She smiled again as the files began appearing on her screen one-by-one.

Richard Grayson; alias: Batman (3); former alias: Nightwing (2), Robin (1), the Target

=DC=

It was different than it used to be. In the past there would be a motorbike under him or perhaps even a glider letting him soar from one rooftop down to hit some guy as he tried to rip off a little old lady. He'd throw out a quip or two, throw out a dashing smile and throw the perp off his game. Throw off a salute to the cops as they arrived and galavant off to the next crime. Those days were gone.

Batman was an entirely different beast than being Nightwing, and it was shaky ground that Dick was still treading. How Bruce was able to keep up the persona all the time was a testament to the man's fortitude. It felt natural at times and than at others it actually felt grating. As if he wanted to just rip his own skin off and be done with it all. Throw up the cape and go back to what he knew. Except the legacy had to continue. Had to endure. There was no one else and he owed it to Bruce. Someone had to maintain the house that Wayne built.

Crouching upon the edge of a rooftop, he waited and watched. Soon enough the time would be right. While the circus style theatrics of his past were not the style of Batman, there was still a sense of the dramatic theatrics in all that had to be done in the persona of the bat. Cowardly and superstitious as criminals were, at least according to the thought of the former Batman.

Michael Davies wanted nothing more than to be back home in his bed, with the covers pulled tight and an arm around whatever random woman was sharing his company for the night. That would be ideal. Comfortable and just a great way to be really. That was not the reality of the situation at hand though. Reality was that he was standing in a dark dank alleyway with a dozen other men and women, waiting for their signal.

"What the hell is Penguin got us out here for anyways?"

"I hear the bat is back in town, dangerous to be out here.

"Didn't you hear, the bat's dead."

"Nah man, that was someone else they say. The Bat's been around this whole time. He busted up that new Black Mask and all that mess."

Michael remained quiet as the others all spoke of the Batman and his status. Every shadow around him seemed to move as his mind went to the vigilante. What if it was true? What if Batman was waiting to pounce on them right then.

"Guys...I can't do this. Ain't gonna end well for us," Michael said as he glanced around more.

A couple of the others nodded. "He's right man. The bat ain't playin lately. We ain't getting paid enough for this stuff."

"Whatever, I'm going in," one of the men named Trevor said.

A whistle filled the air as a batarang lodged into the doorway right where Trevor's hand was about to be. They all gasped and looked around. A growling voice emerged from the shadows, yet the speaker still unseen.

"Leave. Now."

Freaking out, they all began to run as Trevor sneered at the shadows. Michael made it to the end of the alleyway before he turned back to see something dark pounce on Trevor, taking the man down quickly. The fight barely lasted before the figure rose with the unconscious Trevor hanging from his hands. Their eyes met as the vigilante stared at Michael.

"Michael Young. Go home to your family. Find honest work."

Nodding violently, Michael ran as hard as he could till he was far from Crime Alley. Starting tomorrow he would look for honest work, no matter what it took.

As Trevor was dropped, Dick blended back into the shadows. The charade was carried on once more, becoming less of a mimicking job and more of who he was. He was Batman now, and it was time to fully embrace it. A mental note was made to have HR at Wayne Enterprises get into contact with Michael Young in the morning to offer him a job. With the hint of a smile, that was quickly wiped away, Batman was into the air and bounding across rooftops moments later. There was always more to be done.

=DC=

After several seconds, the Grayson file disappeared, and was followed in rapid succession by all known associates. Robin. Batgirl. Oracle. Black Bat. Red Robin. The Outsiders.

Several other names flashed by in rapid succession.

Then a new file appeared on the screen.

Clark Kent; alias: Superman; other alias: Kal-El, Nightwing (1), Gangbuster (1)

=DC=

Superman sat alone at the top of Mount Everest, watching the activity at base camp below. He had just rescued a group of stranded climbers, returning them to where emergency responders waited. A few would probably lose fingers and toes, but all ten of the men would survive.

He took a deep breath of the cold air. New Krypton had only fallen a short time ago, and he found himself virtually alone again. He rubbed his eyes. He was exhausted, physically and emotionally. He raised his head and looked back at base camp. Enough was enough. He needed to stop moping. He stood, lifted off from the snow and floated down to base camp.

"Is everyone okay?" he asked as he lowered himself into the group. The climbers sat around a fire in a circle, eating military MRE's. The stranded climbers were already in a Tibetan hospital, but that didn't mean the dangerous situation didn't affect them as well.

James Callen, the base camp's leader, looked up at him. He was a tall, brawny man, with a heavy beard that matched his shaggy blonde hair. He was a veteran expedition leader and climber, having led fourteen expeditions to base camp, including six trips to the mountain's summit. He smiled.

"Shaken, but fine, thanks to you," he said. He stood and waved him towards his tent. Clark followed him into the large tent. The tent was filled with assorted gear and supplies, with James' small cot, pack and heater in the corner. James turned to Clark.

"If you hadn't been here," James said, "those men would have died. Twelve deaths on my head, the first time. And there would have been nothing I could have done about it."

"I'm glad to help," Clark said. "It's what I'm here for."

"I know," James said. "And we're glad. It seems like you're not as present as you used to be though. Like you've become more concerned with… I don't know. You're not the Superman everyone used to know."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, you used to be a symbol of heroism," he continued. "Of hope. That you'd show up, and punch the bad guy in the face, or rescue the people from the fire. Now, you're kind of… weepy. Self centered. A parody of yourself."

"What are you getting at James?"

"What I saw today… that thrilled me," he said. "It inspired me. It's the first time I've been excited to see you in… I don't know how long."

"So, you want to know your heroes are out there again," he said. "To know they're there."

"That they're really heroes."

Clark smiled.

"You want us to be men of action again. The real thing."

James laughed. "Yeah, I guess I do."

Clark thought back the last few years. He had been introspective, and thoughtful. He wasn't what he had been at the beginning any more. That needed to change.

"I can do that," he said. "Thank you."

With that, he was gone, the flaps of the tent flapping behind him.

=DC=

That file disappeared and the computer cycled through the known associates in much the same way as Batman. She already had enough to take down the world's two most prominent heroes. But she needed so much more.

Princess Diana; alias: Wonder Woman (1); other alias: Agent Diana Prince

=DC=

Planet Yugenic, 647 Light Years from Earth:

The warrior faltered in the face of such strength. That a woman of such will should approach his court and accept his challenge to mateship by combat should have been the beginning of one of his boasts. Instead he stumbled, the cracks in his integrity as wide and fragile as those in his vaunted cosmic weapon. What was to be for him a match hard won was slipping out of his favor.

Maxima of Almerac circled with nary a care for the elite guard and their neutrino cannons. Her eyes rested on the once great king scraping through the debris that was his throne room. She shook her red hair from her face, perhaps aware that she was being watched via tele-sync by an entire civilization, and wanted them to see the wildness of the new monarch in their midst.

"You should be honored," she addressed the royal. "Not many can boast drawing blood from Almerac's queen. To think, a world in pitiful obscurity should be host to such a fighter."

Cursing his line, cursing the authors of his purified genetic code and then his own weakness the warrior lifted himself, pressed beyond the agony in his side and clutched to the starlight ax that had been passed to him by his father: all had failed him, as if fate itself had decided that this battle would never be his.

Wiping the blood from his brow he set his gaze upon her and seethed. "I... am King Feradon of Yugenic... and you, vile witch, have... trespassedonto sovereign soil!"

"Trespassed?" the alien snorted. "I seem to recall you begging the opportunity to face me. You do yourself no honor by besmirching my word, your highness, to say nothing of my sex. However, I am willing to overlook this one falsehood, for the glory of Almerac and Yugenic."

Words like poison flamed his tempter and burned in his dominant hand. Like a beast he lunged, swung his weapon above his head and brought it down with a force that could slice through atoms. His blow was easily evaded, however, and left his stance wide open to the charged kick that separated him from the handle.

He landed, first against the wall and then to the pavement, each turn meeting knew aches and, with some examination, blood. For a king to be so humiliated was unthinkable. Even if he had sought the woman out, such an ending was not desirable.

"Why do you keep fighting?" Maxima mocked. "This is not a battle for victory or death. I promised you my hand at first blood, but you continue. Save for your bitter words you have proven yourself. Isn't knowing that your contribution to the mighty lineage of Almerac, a prize that you gallantly chased me across the galaxy for, has been won?"

He pulled himself up and hissed through gritted teeth. "It... it can't end this way," he spat.

"Is it not what every man desires, to have a wife who is worthy and capable; to have a wife of dignity and purpose, to have a wife of strength upon which the co-foundation of a house might be laid?" Maxima turned to the tele-droids, knowing it was not just the king she addressed. "Would you do your own people the disservice of denying them the vaunted might of Almerac? Your pride cannot be so great, King Ferodan of Yugenic."

Silence marinated the room, and with it the world. The king said nothing; what was he to do when all he stood for he had been brought to its knees?

Maxima bent to his side and stared at him the way a lion would a piece of spoiled meat. "Consider yourself, highness. One might think you merely sought out the warrior queen of Almerac to put a woman in her place. Were such a conceit the truth it might prove deadly for an already humbled king. At any other time I might have married you out of spite, but I grow tired of the men who would toy with my honor."

He hadn't the strength to resist, but what she sought was obscene. There had to be another way. His rage did not serve him, so instead he sought another tool.

"I... I cannot..."

"Then you taunt me," Maxima roared. The wave of telekinetic force projected from her hand lifted the monarch from the ground as it did protect her from the wave of incoming fire at her back. It slowed when it became evident that she had not killed the king; at least not yet.

"Queen Maxima of Almerac, I beg your forgiveness," he rasped. "My world, my heart and my throne have been pledged to another..."

Her eyes narrowed on him. "There is another more worthy than I?" Her anger did not ease when he forced a subtle nod. "Give me her name, and we will see who is worthy."

King Ferodan coughed and struggled for breath while daring to gaze into the fire that was Maxima. "Her name is Diana of Thymescara, an amazon princess, the Wonder Woman of Earth..."

Familiarity tightened Maxima's jaw and released her grip of the native royal. "Wonder Woman of Earth," she laughed. "Your claim is dubious, but very well. If there is the opportunity for honorable battle I will embrace it, and if I win both you and the throne of Yuginec will be mine."

=DC=

The Amazon's download was quicker. Fewer known associates than the previous two.

Barry Allen; alias: The Flash (2)

=DC=

Barry Allen watched as the sun rose over Central City. He smiled. It was amazing how things had changed in the last few months. His entire outlook on life was completely different. He ripped pieces from a bagel and chewed them slowly as he watched the sun break the horizon.

He had died saving the universe.

Now he had the opportunity to do it all over again. Life, that is.

"So what next?" he muttered.

=DC=

Harold "Hal" Jordan; alias: Green Lantern (2); other alias: Parallax

=DC=

Hal Jordan wiped sweat from his brow with the collar of his t-shirt. He took a deep breath in, then raised his fists again. The heavy bag had just stopped swinging from his last barrage of punches.

His entire adult life.

His entire adult life devoted to the Green Lantern Corps.

Defending the universe.

Saving the little blue bastards time and time again.

And they reward him by expelling him from the Corps.

He continued punching the bag, over and over again, until suddenly the chain holding it up broke and the heavy bag thudded onto the gym floor. He stood panting for several seconds. He needed to know what to do next, but he was at a loss.

General Stone had been able to reinstate him upon his return to Edwards AFB, citing a mission keeping him in the field for an extended period of time. But did he want that? To go back to being a fighter jockey after years with a greater weapon?

"Damn," Hal muttered. "Dammit. DAMMIT!"

=DC=

Justice League; key current members: Arthur Curry/Aquaman, J'Onn J'Onzz/Martian Manhunter, Kyle Rayner/Green Lantern (5), Donna Troy, Jesse Chambers/ Jesse Quick, Carter Hall/ Hawkman (1?), Ronald "Ronnie" Raymond/ Firestorm (1), Jason Rusch/Firestorm (3)

=DC=

Kyle Rayner stood in front of the mirror.

He wasn't entirely sure how, or when the change took place, but his costume, formerly that of a Green Lantern, had bleached itself of all colour. The Black and Green which had made up the bulk of the costume had leached itself out of the energy construct of which the costume comprised and had dribbled onto the floor, leaving a shimmering puddle of green and black, mixing together in impenetrable swirls.

"White?" he asked himself, touching his chest. He bore a new symbol, that of the white lantern corps. He carefully opened the door to his closet, the mirror sliding away to leave him staring at what he hoped would be a Green Lantern, but had not suffered a similar fate. Bleached of its colour, dripping to the floor. It flooded Kyle with visions of himself, dressed in Green, wearing the Sinestro Corps colours, fighting with the Rage of the Reds.

-[White, Kyle Rayner. You Are My Emissary.]-

"Emissary?" Kyle asked.

-[There Is A War Coming, Kyle Rayner. A War For The Life Of Nature. You Must Be My General.]-

"I have responsibilities already…to the Corps.."

-[Yes. My Corps.]-

"No, to the Green Lanterns. I don't want to be a part of this – I've seen how you use your Lanterns, how you guide them to failure and break them."

-[No. I Heal. I Teach Them To Live.]-

"No, I'm not doing this." Kyle shook his head, closing the closet door. "I am a Green Lantern. I will not be forced into doing your building, a puppet in one of these ridiculous games. Do you have any idea how many people lost their lives? Do you have any idea how angry we are that you restored only a few who died? A handful?"

-[There Are Reasons, Kyle Rayner. There A Methods That Must Be Used. You Are The First. You Must Be Taught To Live Again.]-

"No, I'm living already. I live fine without your interference.."

The ring took a life of its own, flooding the room with a bright, white light. Kyle was knocked off his feet, the energy flying from his ring, throwing him into his bed. He twisted in place, trying to redirect the white, as it grew in intensity, filling his room with images of heroes he knew.

J'Onn J'Onnz, Jennifer-Lynn Hayden. Arthur Curry. Carter Hall. Mari Jiwi McCabe. Jesse Quick. Donna Troy. Dawn Granger. Jason Rusch. Ronnie Raymond. Mitchell Shelley.

-[Kyle Rayner. You Must Bring Them Together. You Must Stop Them. All Of Them. Lead My League.]-

=DC=

Teen Titans; no current members found

=DC=

Titans together. It used to mean something. Then Deathstroke had corrupted the name when he had built a team of villains and unsavory people to do whatever it was he was after. One of those things included the murder of fledgling hero Ryan Choi. With that the name Titans was tainted more than it had been in the past.

Superboy Prime's return didn't help as he tore through the team that had been in place, with them coming out on top after that. It didn't take long before they began to drift apart. First it was Red Robin, heading off to try and prove that the original Batman wasn't truly dead. Then Wonder Girl had left to her own devices. Miss Martian. Raven. Superboy. One by one they all left till there was nothing left. The Teen Titans were done once more.

It wasn't something that Cyborg found surprising as he stood in the remnants of Titans Tower. It was probably the fourth or fifth, more than that probably, time he'd been around when the team had gone their own way. Somehow he was always left there. This time though he was done. There would be no bringing the team back together.

"Not this time," he said as he glanced up at the towering statues that filled the hall of the dead. "This time I leave it. The Teen Titans have reached their end."

Humming, the human and machine hybrid moved out into the main hall of the tower and exited into the dim San Francisco night air. There was something else that had caught his mind as of late. Another way to make a difference that would help more than he had been lately. Something that would give youth a better chance than even the Teen Titans had done.

"Computer, initiate the process."

As the long-time Titan walked away, the building began to buckle as internal explosions rocked it down to the foundation. A controlled implosion rippled through the building and caused it to sink in on itself. Unlike most explosives these were designed to reduce the rubble and the possible impact on the environment. Within moments there was nothing but a smoking crater remaining and even that wasn't much of a crater. Given enough time the vegetation of the island would quickly move in and fill the spot. It would be as if there had never been a tower there in the first place.

Without even a glance backwards the man wandered away, the past nothing but a memory now. The sight was truly set on the future. Children were the future.

=DC=

Many others shuffled through the screen, until the download stopped. She smiled, gave the disk a moment, and then picked it up.

"That will do," she said.

"Will it now?" said an unexpectedly young voice. She spun to see a young black-haired boy, not older than ten, standing behind her in the robes of an Asian martial artist and carrying a sheathed katana.

"I don't know who you are," Damian Wayne said. "That likely means I'll have to kill you. That's a shame for one so pretty."

"Please, you're but a child."

"Don't beg, it's demeaning."

A laugh came from the woman as she stared down the young man that struck a fighting pose before her. "Child, I do not beg."

"Good neither do I. I tire of this banter," Damian said as he launched himself at the unknown woman.

Not a move was made by the woman. Nothing defensive. Not even a notion of her moving. It seemed that Damian's punch was going to hit her just as he had projected it to. This was easier than it seemed.

At the last moment there was a movement, her hand grasping his wrist as the young man was flung into the ground. A grunt came as all the air in the lungs was forcibly removed by the impact. For a moment his sight dimmed as the young man wanted to roll over and vomit profusely.

There was no time for that though. She was on him in just moments. Strike after strike seemed to rain down. It was as if she knew what he might do. Already all that Batman knew about the boy and the way he moved and worked was in her mind, read from the very files she had been looking through. A strike caught him in the jaw and sent Damian's head to the side, a bit of blood splattering across the cold stone floor.

"I do not take any pleasure from beating on a child, I assure you. Sometimes one must make sacrifices for the greater good."

"Like when I defeat you," Damian muttered through his blood filled mouth.

"You are persistent. That is admirable."

There was no way that Damian could win, the punches that rained down upon him were too much. There was a small pool of blood under his head as he sputtered more out, one eye sealed shut with caked blood and a giant bruise forming.

With a sigh the woman pushed off the young man and stared down at him. "I take no pride in this child. I am of the mind, not the body and this display of brawn was unnecessary. Heed that for the future. Use your mind, not your fists. Perhaps you will fare better."

With but a whisper in the air she was gone, the youth left there struggling to right himself.

=DC=

Clutched tightly, the information was secure. It was enough for their plans. Sliding into the darkened room, she walked with a purpose. With a click footsteps echoed down the long hallway till it tapered out into a larger brighter room.

A group of individuals sat around a large table, their grumbles and voices dimming as she entered. They had been waiting. Most patiently but some were ready to burst.

"Do you have it?"

"An unnecessary question and waste of breath and time, of course I have it."

Standing before them, she held the chip extracted from the retrieval device aloft. "With this, we will move forward. With this information the plans for this world will move forward. The heroes will be of no consequence."

A grunt came from one at the table. "How do we know we can trust you Humanite?"

A small grin crept across the feminine lips of the Ultra Humanite's newest body. "Because I am the smartest person in this room, and I assure you that with this information we will crush the heroes at last and take what is rightfully ours. What say you?"

A few grumbles came but the majority sounded off in the affirmative. They were in.

"Very well, let us call this to order then the first meeting of the new Society of Super-Villains!"

TO BE CONTINUED IN-

JUSTICE LEAGUE BY ED AINSWORTH

SUPERMAN BY TONY THORNLEY

BATMAN BY SCOTT REDMOND

WONDER WOMAN BY MIRANDA SPARKS

TEEN TITANS BY SCOTT REDMOND

GREEN LANTERN BY TONY THORNLEY


End file.
